The sun was still high in the sky, barely obscured by a light layer of clouds, although it was starting to get late. The streets of Paris were eerily quiet where the angry crowd had passed. The broken shop windows were numerous, and shards of glass littered the hot asphalt. When the sun's rays shone upon them, they sparkled like diamonds or stars. The abandoned cars in the middle of the road had also suffered the wrath of the protesters, although they were in no way responsible for the outage.

A young girl with blue-dyed hair, a small black leather jacket, and faded black jeans with holes at the knees walked in the middle of the street like a zombie, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. She could see nothing or very little, avoiding the wreckage of cars, buses, and motorcycles only by reflex.

Stephanie had headed straight for her high school and realized that its doors were closed. On the large white gate through which she usually passed to go to class, a message had been left for parents and students. It had been written in black marker and taped directly onto the bars. It stated that the teaching staff could not ensure classes, supervision, and the protection of students, which had led the principal to close the school until the situation returned to normal.

The disillusioned young revolutionary struggled to read the paper and couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

A return to normal? Haha… That won't happen. Nothing will return to normal.

A tear began to trickle down her cheek without her attempting to wipe it away. Although the air was mild, she trembled like a leaf. Like a lost soul, she resumed her walk, avoiding people on her path as if they were the plague.

Before she knew it, she found herself in front of the front door of her house. She stood there like a statue, hesitating to turn the handle. She was terrified at the mere thought of facing her parents. She knew she would be punished, but that wasn't the worst part. She feared more than anything the look they would give her when they found out what she had done.

Finally, the white plastic door was opened from the inside. It was her mother, and clearly, she was not in a good mood.

"Is this the time you come home?! Your father and I were worried sick! Where have you been?!"

"I was… in class," the young girl replied hesitantly and in a choked voice.

"Don't lie to me, you impudent little one! Don't forget your father is a teacher! The school was closed this afternoon!"

Stephanie lowered her head even further to avoid meeting the gaze of her mother, who was furious like never before. Her whole body trembled, and she felt tears starting to form at the edge of her eyes.

"And what's on your face?! Is… Is that blood?!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" she exploded as if it were the only method she had found to defend herself.

"Come in," Christine eventually ordered. "Your father is in the living room. No, don't go up to your room! Go to the living room!"

The inside of the house was strangely quiet. The young girl, followed by her mother, passed by the stairs leading to the upper floor, where she saw her older sister, then past a row of framed photos carefully arranged against the wall separating the entrance from the living room. Xavier Lemoine was sitting at the dining table, and opposite him were Morgane's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Stephanie shuddered as she realized their presence. All eyes were on her, and she hastened to lower her eyes.

"Sit down," commanded her mother.

The young girl, no longer in a rebellious mood, obeyed without trying to avoid the discussion. However, she still dared not look her parents in the face, let alone Morgane's parents. Strangely, her father had not moved or spoken a word. She felt the ball of anxiety that had formed along the way grow in her throat.

"With your father, we were very worried not to see you come back. It's madness out there! We thought something serious had happened to you!"

Xavier placed an affectionate and comforting hand on his trembling wife's, who had been anxious for hours. They had worried so much about their daughter that they had thought they were going crazy. They were ready to do anything to find her, even if it meant confronting the whole world. Only then did Xavier speak. His voice was lower than the earth and seemed calm. It was as if it came from the deepest of caves, echoing against the damp, cold, rocky walls.

"Where were you? And do you know where Morgane is? Her parents arrived hours ago hoping to find her here, with you."

P-Papa is furious! Oh my God!

Stephanie felt tears streaming down her dirty cheeks, and her throat dried up.

"We… We were separated. We were together at a protest."

"A protest?!" exclaimed her mother, although she had imagined this possibility.

"F-For the return of electricity, phones, and water. We left the school and went to the Élysée."

"You walked to the Élysée palace?! Why?!"

"Chris," Xavier murmured barely audibly, "there's no need to raise your voice now. Stéph," he said, fixing his daughter with silent rage, "did you really think that by protesting, you would restore what was cut off?"

Xavier's eyes had become as dark as a black hole, and his voice so low that it made the blood in the young girl's veins freeze. Even Stephanie's mother was surprised.

"It's… It's better than doing nothing and waiting for others to do the work!"

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"You seem very sure of yourself. Tell me, has the water returned? No! Has the electricity returned? Neither! What efficiency! All you managed to do was worry us. Are you going to tell us what happened now? Where did these blood stains on you come from? Is it yours? Are you injured?"

"I'm not hurt. It's not mine."

"Then whose is it?! Is Morgane okay?!"

Morgane's mother shouted unintentionally. She was in the same psychological state as Stephanie's mother a few moments earlier.

"I don't know… There were too many people."

"..."

"We were really a lot. I was holding Morgane's hand so as not to lose her in the crowd. We arrived in front of the palace gates and couldn't move forward. People were pushing behind us, and we were shouting for the president to hear us. We just wanted everything to be fixed. That's all.

"Because you think Raymond is responsible? You need to stop, Stephanie. There aren't conspiracies around every corner."

"So who should we turn to?! He's the president! He has the power! So he's the one responsible or he's the one who can restore electricity! We just wanted him to do his job!"

Stephanie, pale as a ghost, dared to raise her gaze and fix her parents as if it would add weight to her words. She felt like she was in court even though theoretically she hadn't done anything wrong. Xavier, however, didn't even flinch.

"And then?" he asked in a cold tone.

"And then, I don't know what happened. There were shots fired. People started panicking and running in all directions. That's when I got separated from Morgane."

"Sh-Shots?!"

All faces turned pale. Morgane's mother brought a trembling hand to her mouth. Everyone now imagined the worst, especially with the bloodstains that had had time to dry on Stephanie's childlike face.

"And… And then?" Xavier pressed with fear.

"I found myself in a street, I don't know which one, and I was alone. Since my phone wasn't working, I couldn't call Morgane. So I came home."

Morgane's mother collapsed in tears on her chair. Her husband, as devastated as her, took her in his arms, fearing he would never see their only daughter again. Morgane's mother's face disappeared into Emmanuel Granger's thick jacket, but everyone could guess that it must be distorted by terror. It was only then that Stephanie understood what she had done. She bit her lower lip with guilt until it bled.

Then three knocks were heard at the front door. A mix of fear and hope seized everyone's heart, including Marie, who hadn't missed a word of the conversation from the top of the stairs. hesitantly, Christine Lemoine got up and opened the main door with a trembling hand. From the living room, a great sigh of relief was heard.

"Morgane!"

"My baby!"

"Thank God!"

Thank God! Stephanie thought inwardly, relieved that her friend was safe and sound.

She was almost suffocated between her parents' arms.

After a brief respite granted to the young girl and her parents, she was asked a few questions about what she had seen. The adults, more mature and sensitive to certain subjects, needed answers and reassurance about the functioning of the state. The worst thing that could happen was to have no leader anymore and therefore no chance of quickly returning to a normal situation.

"I'm pretty short," Morgane began, having settled next to Stephanie, facing her parents, "and there were really a lot of people all around us. We couldn't see anything, and we could barely hear what was being said. We had to shout to hear each other. We got stuck with the rest of the procession in front of the Élysée gates, and it was pushing in all directions. Some wanted the president's resignation, and others wanted to storm the palace. In front, there were a lot of smoke bombs or maybe tear gas, but we were so far away that we weren't affected, Steph and I. Steph helped me climb onto something, and from there I could see the gates of the main entrance moving, and I think they almost broke. There was a lot of shouting and smoke everywhere. Some people had lit fireworks and smoke bombs. And then there was a gunshot, and then it all went crazy. People started running, and I got pushed. I saw someone fall next to me and get trampled. That's when I realized I wasn't holding Steph's hand anymore. To avoid falling, I walked fast in the same direction as everyone else, and at the same time, I tried to get out of there. I think… I think I heard several shots."

The adults looked at each other with the utmost seriousness. Xavier leaned slightly forward, looking straight into the eyes of the rainbow-haired girl.

"Morgane, do you know if the palace gates were still closed when the crowd dispersed?"

"I-I'm not sure, but I think so. Since most people left, there were only the hardcore types left, like the black bloc."

The adults breathed a sigh of relief. If the president was safe and sound, then all hope was not lost. At least that's what the adults in the room seemed to think. For her part, Stephanie saw things differently. All she saw was that the presidential security group had opened fire on the people, although she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. Yet she bitterly noted that her parents and Morgane's parents were more concerned about the president's safety than the violence that had been committed against them! In her eyes, they were the victims and the state the culprit! She didn't voice her thought to avoid drawing even more attention to herself, knowing full well that they would all be against her.

Morgane's parents didn't stay much longer and went home to eat. That evening, the family meal was incredibly quiet and awkward. If Stephanie hadn't been so hungry, she would certainly have stayed in her room as if to protect herself from the world. Due to the water outage, she had to use mineral water to wash her face. She stank despite the deodorant and perfume, and her hair was a mess like never before. Because the sun set around 9:30 p.m., there was no need to light candles. The meal was simple: Xavier had been in the garden and had used dead wood from the pruning of the two fruit trees there, which produced apples and pears every year, to light a modest fire to heat up the canned ravioli that hadn't been eaten the day before. The large 500-gram tin (a bit more than one pound) was completely emptied, and the pot was cleaned with bread.

"And so the school will remain closed until the electricity comes back. I couldn't teach normally, no more than most of my colleagues. Some are more affected than others, but try doing math without a calculator!"

"Yes. That was the first problem yesterday, at work, but today it wasn't that! People don't even try to pay anymore, they loot! Everyone! It started as soon as the store opened! What can we do? We can't chase after every person who leaves the store without paying! There are too many! Everyone gave up and helped themselves like the others. After all, everyone needs to eat and drink. Without a car, I was limited. So I brought the whole cart back!"

Indeed, to her greatest shame, Mrs. Lemoine had looted her own store. Everyone helped themselves, and she had to follow the rules? Why? She took what she could, but within a few hours, the shelves had been practically emptied, especially the expensive items and food. Her loot was very modest, especially since people had not hesitated to take things from her cart!

"Things are deteriorating faster and faster, it seems. What should we do, Dad?" Marie asked, frightened by this turn of events.

"I think things won't get better, Marie. Christine? Starting tomorrow, I'll go get food. It's getting too dangerous."

"I know, Xavier. People have already started fighting each other for a can of food or a bag of pasta. Without Moussa's help, I would have been beaten up by that bitch! Sorry, but that's the word! She refused to acknowledge that I was the first to grab the oil bottle when she arrived later! Look! You can see the mark where she grabbed my wrist! I think I saw someone bite another person to make them let go of a bag of salt."

"My God! If this continues, we'll have to move away from Paris a little."

"Oh?"

"Look at what's happening, Christine. Soon, there will be nothing left to loot in the stores, but people will still be hungry. And from what I see, law enforcement is completely overwhelmed. We need to prepare for the worst."